"I walked," she replied, her eyes fixed on the condensation forming on the glass he placed before her. "The city is different when it’s buried. It’s like everyone’s secrets are finally under a blanket where they can’t be heard."

"The usual, Kenji," Aoi said, unwinding a thick wool scarf. She took her customary seat at the far end of the bar, where the amber light of a desk lamp cast long, soft shadows.

Kenji nodded, reaching for a bottle of premium junmai ginjo. "You’re late tonight. The trains stopped running twenty minutes ago."

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